PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Singing softly in the wind
A softened song, a solemn hymn
Carries through the mountains, and what I see is true
Three Majestic lords, carrying a tune

Through silent fear and slight reproach
I steal forward in grave approach
Though what I hear nay song nor score
But an ancient tale never heard before

As I sneak and I spy and I slouch in fear
What I see in their hands is a gilded spear
Not of the earth or of space, but of an ancient heathen
Who once picked up this sword in the Garden of Eden

And what finally becomes to me crystal clear
A disciple, I run up the valley and hasten to peer
I must have fallen to slumber, once again, and abandoned my post
For before me thy Father, thy Son, and the Holy Ghost!